


Tyler Wants the D[anger].

by Josaporta



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Daydreaming, Frottage, M/M, Masturbation, Rutting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-11
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-03-22 08:10:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3721552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Josaporta/pseuds/Josaporta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tyler should not have thought about that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh No.

The sound of Josh drumming was the sound of blood rushing in his veins. It was the booming thunder rumbling its way across the sky, chasing the rhythm that Josh was pounding out with strong, fast movements. It was the familiar thud of his heartbeat, pressed against his ribcage from the inside out, trying to burst through at a breakneck pace that had them all sweating a little bit from where they were watching, just out of shot. The bass was loud, stealing the rhythms that Josh was pumping out as it rattled the room-- loud, loud, louder.

Tyler was always struck by it. He was stuck in place like a tree that was trying desperately to keep itself rooted into the ground as the wind and thunder whipped around, tearing at him. His veins turns to vines, all trying to tie themselves together to find purchase enough to hold tight as the storm of Josh’s drumming rolled over him. They snaked around, slithering until they connected with the thrumming mass of sound as he watched, connecting themselves to the very source of what was producing the force trying to blow him away.

He always got stuck watching Josh drum and in the very back of his mind he thought about how he could make a joke of that. Josh Drum.

He was far more distracted by the spectacle in front of him, though. 

Watching the drummer was always an experience in and of itself. It was amazing, awe inspiring, and Tyler was certain that he’d never seen, and would never see, anything else like it until the next time he watched the actual event. There was a strange juxtaposition in his motions that wasn’t unlike the storm that Tyler felt whenever he played. The ebb and flow of energy was there. It gained fluidity from the way it moved like water, churning in the open sea and crashing and pushing against them to encourage them to be more than they were, more than they had been, more than they thought they could be. It held an intensity that pressed into them and energized them in a way that felt fluid but made their movements jerk like they’d been struck by lightning. It made them harsh and strong, twitching and stuttering. 

He loved watching Josh kill it on the drums, though. His eyes always swept over the expanse of his body, following the curves with a familiarity that he wasn’t sure he was entirely allowed to have, but he did. He watched the curve of Josh’s spine dip into the small of his back, the thrash of his head as he got more and more into the music. His arms were always raised so high above his head when he needed the strength to bring them crashing down and his thighs were strong when they made the loudest of all of the parts of the storm that he felt in his chest when he watched Josh.

Tyler shifted a little uncomfortably from where he stood behind the cameras and Mark, watching as Josh lifted his arms high above his head. His spine bowed a little and Tyler knew the contours of the body hidden under those layers. He slammed down into the drums accompanying the track they made together and Tyler nearly choked on his own spit, picturing the way his stomach moved and his muscles contracted. They had always instilled a certain intensity into each other and part of Tyler’s mind told him that he had done this-- he made Josh’s back arch like that and he made him look like he was doing something important. He was the one that Josh was panting for, breath picking up with the labor of work he was doing. Tyler made him sweat.

He really needed to stop thinking along those lines. They were supposed to be working.

Coughing once the take was done, Tyler reached up to scrub his hand over his face, only seeing at the last second that it was still covered in the black that he’d been using. He huffed to himself, pressing his lips together slightly as he scratched the side of his neck instead. There was just a certain amount of motion in him now. He needed to move and do something or else he’d get distracted by the motion of  Josh again.

Dangerous thoughts for a dangerous video. It seemed fitting somehow.

In reality, he and Josh had always been close, maybe too close. Their friendship was legendary and he wondered if they weren’t closer than just friends. There had been times when they’d helped each other out in ways that thinking back on now made Tyler squirm in place again, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. There had always been that undercurrent of tension that he could never put his finger on, and now that this was happening somewhere where other people could see, he sort of realized. He didn’t know how to classify his feelings for his best friend.

He was definitely Tyler’s best friend, but they were more than that. They weren’t something romantic but they were something that was infinitely more than just platonic. His stomach churned in turmoil as he thought about his feelings and then the flash of heat that shot through him every time he thought of Josh in action, drumming and arching his back, lifting his arms and panting.

Tyler blushed to himself, mentally cursing his imagination for that mental image.

He could picture the whole thing, though. 

He could imagine Josh coming away from his drums. Tyler would make a face and Josh would ask what was wrong and he couldn’t explain that he was thinking about his best friend pinning him to the wall and-- well, he hadn’t gotten that far yet.   
Tyler could picture Josh pinning him to the wall, kissing him until he couldn’t breathe; or picking him up and fucking him right there, where anyone could walk in. He could drag him to the bus and make him be quiet in the bunks. He could do anything really.   
Tyler really needed to stop. He could not film the rest of this video with a boner.


	2. Oh My

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyler should not have dreamt that

Tyler dreamt in black and white and red.

His mind painted itself across a canvas of void and negative space whenever he closed his eyes, and the darkness and the demons ebbed away into something new every time he managed a good night’s sleep. Ever since the conception of blurryface, of an entity that streaked red over his black and white dreamscape, he knew he wouldn’t sleep the same. It had always haunted him, hunted him in the daytime when the hollows of his eyes became too deep to hide and too dark to cover. It was haunting him now, slowly inching its way into his thought process in his sleep. His anxieties inched up behind the color splashed dream.

He could see them working again, saw the storm in the form of a person.

Josh was moving in slow motion, the rise and fall of his arms, the twitch of muscle in his shoulders and neck as they flexed and relaxed. It was like Tyler had really been struck by the lightning of his best friend-- maybe something more he reminded himself distantly, because he  _ wanted--  _ but in a place where he couldn’t escape just by running. He couldn’t release himself from the grip of the storm made entirely of Joshua Dun. He could feel the catch of his own breath in his dream, stealing out all the air and creating a vacuum. His only saving grace was the empty space between them.

The dreamscape was mostly bare, inhabited by black and faceless figures. Maybe it was the intense focus he had on the drummer that just caused the rest of it to fall away, maybe he hadn’t thought that anything else was worth dreaming of. Nothing was as dream worthy as this either. He could see every motion and every twitch. Every tug and pull and flex was on full display and Tyler was just standing there, stricken. He could hardly think, knowing only absently that this was a dream.

Josh’s body was made of long lines of thick muscle. The contraction and tension whenever he moved sharply caught Tyler’s eye in almost the same way that it did when he was awake. He could see it play across his body, a rolling storm’s motion still caught by a twenty-seven year old man. Except Tyler was fairly certain that he was more than that. Some ethereal cosmic being squished into human skin, the beauty of it unrivaled and new, dangerous.

He was a mass of red among the black and white, intense and shifting, the color changing shades along with his motions. Tyler wanted to see if he could reach out and touch even though it was just a dream. And he knew that. Not even distantly, he was painfully, glaringly aware that this was all in his head, just like everything else that he fantasized about with his drummer.

And wasn’t that just the most possessive cherry on top? Tyler always called him  _ his  _ drummer,  _ his  _ best friend,  _ his  _ Josh. But there was never a full sense of reciprocation. It was never anything but him being overly possessive and Josh having other friends, doing other things and going places with people who weren’t Tyler where he wasn’t invited. The feeling was gut wrenching and guilt inducing, Tyler hated feeling like that and hated that sometimes Josh could tell when he got to be too much. It made him hate himself and the feelings that he had for the older boy even more.

But here, in a sense of dreaming, Tyler could be like that. It could be his guilty pleasure and he could have Josh all to himself. Even in the sea of monochrome faceless crowds and grayscale surroundings, Josh shone red and it was all Tyler saw.

Here, he could go up to the all red Josh and pull him close, press into his body with his own and pull their mouths together. Every daydream and wishful thought could be reality if he was within the black-white-red of his mind. He wasn’t in color, though. The gray of his skin and black paint on his hands did nothing to diminish the bright red-hot glow coming from Josh. It stained him, momentarily, with color wherever they touched. It made his heart race within his dream and his body toss and turn in his bunk, his hotel bed, wherever he slept. He could feel the heat of it, Josh’s hands on him and his hands touching anywhere and everywhere that he could reach.

In his dreams, he didn’t just have to want. He could  _ have _ .

Their mouths smeared together like paint, the dream version of Josh leaving splashes of red along Tyler’s jaw. His fingers left little dots along his skin where he touched him, his hands trailing down Tyler’s sides. It was everything Tyler wanted but couldn’t have when he was awake. Josh wasn’t interested in him like that, but here he was.

Here he pushed Tyler into a wall that hadn’t been there before, and the wall became a bed. It was soft and plush, cloud like enough that maybe it actually was one. He felt like he could have been floating. The soft airy feeling beneath him only made Josh’s presence on top-- in front of?-- him feel more real. He knew it wasn’t. God, he couldn’t forget that it wasn’t real. But he could dream.

He could feel the scratch of his beard against his jaw. It left red streaked across him, etched into his skin, glowing even as Josh’s mouth moved. He could feel the callouses on Josh’s palms, from clutching his drumsticks, pounding them into the drums so hard that Tyler almost couldn’t believe it. First at his ribs, pressing glowing spots into him, then his hips until they bruised in brilliant ruby, his thighs as he pushed them apart, settled between them. The red Josh rolled their hips together, and Tyler whimpered in his sleep, real world connecting just slightly to his dream. They rocked into each other, Tyler clutching at Josh in his dream as the reddened man pressed against him hard until it was too much, too bright, an explosion of white against the red.

The come down was worse, reminding him that it was just a dream.

He woke up uncomfortably sticky, reminded of being a teenager.

God, he had to get this under control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise  
> This isn't proofread or beta'd tbh I'm at work

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a quick lil 2/3 ch thing tbh bUT  
> The rest of main!college au is coming soon to a theater near you.


End file.
